


Be Close To Me

by kissoffools



Category: Academy Awards (2017) RPF, Actor RPF, British Actor RPF
Genre: Academy Awards, Falling In Love, First Meetings, M/M, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-01
Updated: 2021-01-01
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:08:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28228896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kissoffools/pseuds/kissoffools
Summary: By the time Andrew arrives for the Actors Roundtable, his eyes land on Dev before he even realizes he’s been looking for him.A tale of two actors and awards season.
Relationships: Andrew Garfield/Dev Patel
Comments: 12
Kudos: 26
Collections: Yuletide 2020





	Be Close To Me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [aqualined (inabstract)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/inabstract/gifts).



They meet at the Nominee’s Luncheon. 

Andrew’s been to one of these before, years ago, for _The Social Network_. That experience had been this strange combination of exciting and upsetting - for every person who clasped his hand and congratulated him on the excellent film, they also told him what a shame it was that he hadn’t been nominated personally. Andrew likes to think he has a pretty good head on his shoulders and a good perspective on the industry, but hearing over and over again that you just weren’t good enough to make the cut while eating multiple salmon crudites certainly makes for a confusing afternoon. 

This one is more pleasant, but less thrilling. He’s older now, a little more jaded about Hollywood as a whole, and no longer eats fish. Plus, he’s nominated for real. So that makes the incessant congratulatory comments meaningful, but the whole thing feels a little tiring.

That is, until him.

“Andrew, this is Dev.” One of _Hacksaw Ridge_ ’s producers taps him on the shoulder, and he turns around, only to be promptly bowled over by a pair of rich, warm brown eyes. 

“Hi!” Dev says brightly, holding out a hand. “It’s lovely to meet you.” 

“You as well,” Andrew says, quick to take Dev’s hand in his own. He knows who the other man is, of course. Between _Slumdog_ , _Life of Pi_ , and the man’s handsome face, how could anyone miss Dev Patel? 

“I actually asked him to introduce me. I hope that’s all right,” Dev says as the producer veers off to schmooze with someone else. The younger man’s face is open and eager, and Andrew is reminded a bit of a puppy.

A gorgeous puppy.

“I just think you’re a brilliant actor,” Dev continues. “So I wanted to congratulate you. And just… well, just say hi.” 

Okay, a gorgeous, sweet puppy. “Thanks! You’re so lovely. And congratulations to you as well!” Andrew says. 

Dev shrugs the compliment off. “I always feel strange at events like this,” he says. “Honestly, there’s this false veneer to everything and I never quite know how to handle myself around that. Think that feeling goes away eventually?” 

Andrew is surprised. Usually meeting other actors at these events is a bit of a circlejerk of compliments and false promises to ‘do lunch’, usually finished off with some insincere offer to read a screenplay or a treatment or a manuscript. Par for the course, without any genuine sentiment. 

All he can feel radiating off Dev is genuine sentiment, and that makes Andrew like him all the more.

“I don’t think it does,” Andrew confesses. “I feel out of place at these kinds of things, too, honestly. I’m terrible at selling myself. And the idea that if you say the wrong thing to the wrong person, your career’s trajectory could change? Nightmare.” 

Dev’s lips lift into a grin, and Andrew finds a matching one sliding onto his face. 

“That’s exactly how it feels,” Dev agrees. “I just feel like I’m bad at them!”

A waiter with a tray of champagne flutes passes, and Andrew flags him down to snag two of them. He passes one to Dev and clinks their glasses together.

“Want to be my buddy?” Andrew asks. “We can keep each other company and save each other from terrible schmoozing techniques.” 

“For the luncheon or for awards season?”

“God, either.” 

Dev laughs. “Then maybe it should be for the whole season. I have a feeling we’re going to bump into each other a lot in the next couple months.” 

“Deal,” Andrew agrees, nodding firmly and trying not to stare too long at Dev’s mouth. Buddies are professional, he tells himself. Platonic. No good can come from daydreaming about Dev’s smile.

The lights in the room flicker and the president of the Academy appears onstage, striding towards the microphone. “Hello, everyone!” he calls. “Welcome to the Nominee’s Luncheon in honour of the 89th annual Academy Awards. We hope you’re all enjoying your time mingling and getting to know the other nominees. If you’d please take your seats, we’d like to share a few words.” 

“Sit by me,” Dev whispers, elbowing Andrew’s side gently. “Don’t leave me to fend for myself!”

Andrew chuckles quietly. “I would never,” he promises.

He follows Dev through the dimly lit room to a pair of chairs, settling in next to him. Dev Patel, he thinks, may just be the best thing to happen to him this awards season.

***

For weeks, it seems like Dev was absolutely right. Just about every junket, every ceremony, every event Andrew attends during awards season, Dev is there. Much to his own delight.

They don’t always have a lot of time to talk. Sometimes things are so hectic and they’re both on such tight schedules that all they can do is wave and exchange grins. But even that is enough - like a bright light in a sea of grey, some days. Just knowing that Dev is out there grinding out his campaign too makes Andrew’s feel a little less lonely.

Sometimes, though, they do get to spend time together. Whether it’s grabbing drinks together at the BAFTA bar or chatting over boxed falafel in between interviews during a ten-hour press junket, they just seem to gravitate towards one another. There’s always laughter and Dev is a pro at putting a positive spin on things, no matter how tedious or draining they are. Andrew is grateful for him. 

“I think I’m officially sick of dress shirts,” Dev announces one evening, already unbuttoning his as he walks over to join Andrew. They’ve just come off a full day of radio interviews for the acting nominees at the Four Seasons, and Andrew feels like he’s just about ready to collapse. All he’s daydreaming about right now is his bed with Chinese takeout and a sitcom.

“It’s dumb that we have to wear them for radio interviews,” Andrew agrees. “They can’t see us. Why does anyone care what we’re wearing?” 

“It’s a sadistic ploy to keep us chained and uncomfortable through the whole thing, I swear.” Dev tugs open the last button on his shirt and twists, haphazardly pulling his arms out of the sleeves like a petulant toddler. He’s left in only his undershirt, and the way the sweat makes it cling to his torso leaves little to the imagination.

All of Andrew’s effort goes into not blatantly staring. 

Dev flops down into the chair next to him. “We’re only three weeks away from being finished with this whole circus. Isn’t that crazy?”

“Wild,” Andrew says a little distractedly.

“Though I feel kind of bad, if I’m being honest. I worked my ass off to be here. So many people dream of being exactly where we are right now. And I’m complaining. That probably makes me terrible.” 

Currently all Andrew is dreaming about is adding Dev to his bed-Chinese food-Netflix mental scenario, but he forces himself to push that aside to actually respond. 

“Stop that. You aren’t terrible,” Andrew insists, reaching out and resting a hand on Dev’s forearm. “You can recognize that you’re fortunate to be here and how much it means, and still be exhausted by the whole process. Both things can be true.” 

Dev exhales slowly, and then offers Andrew a little smile. “Where did you learn to be so wise, huh?” 

“Oh, I just came this way naturally.” 

Dev’s eyes lift to meet his own. “I’ll bet.” 

Andrew feels himself grow warm and drops his gaze, flustered. Who even is this man? How is he so perfect? 

Before they know it, their teams are gathering everyone up and attempting to herd them all out of the room. It’s been a long day and god knows their publicists want to be home in bed eating Chinese food, too. Andrew grabs his bag and slings it over his shoulder before lifting his eyes to look up at Dev again. 

“See you at the circus’ next stop?” 

Dev chuckles. “Wouldn’t miss it.”

***

By the time Andrew arrives for the Actors Roundtable, his eyes land on Dev before he even realizes he’s been looking for him.

“I see you too got the email about the all-black ensemble requirements,” Andrew says to Dev as he approaches. The other man is splayed in his chair, long limbs and curls everywhere, and looks up from his phone with a grin. 

“Oh, I never reject a dress code,” Dev says. Andrew can’t help but laugh, and tries to find something else to say that isn’t a stumbling compliment about how good he looks. 

“It’s weird to be doing this, right?” Andrew turns a little, looking over at the other men who are starting to roll in for the day’s panel and photoshoot. “Like, the junkets are one thing. But this… I mean, I’ve been watching Jeff Bridges in films since I was young. It’s sort of… what the hell am I doing here having some kind of conversation about the craft of acting with him, you know?” 

Dev stands and stretches, and Andrew very politely tries not to eye the strip of skin revealed at his waistband as his shirt rides up a bit. Be professional, he reminds himself. This still counts as being at work. No one needs you ogling the talent. Then Dev clasps a hand on Andrew’s shoulder, and he feels the weight of every single one of his fingers.

“Stop that, you,” Dev says. “You’re brilliant and everyone here knows it. Believe it yourself every once in a while.” 

Andrew grins. “When I’m fired from my next project from being an insufferable, pretentious diva, I hope you know I’ll tell them you’re to blame.” 

“If that’s the cross I must bear for hyping you up, I’ll be glad to.”

“You’re ridiculous, you know,” Andrew says, jabbing Dev in the side a little with his elbow. The other man laughs, twisting away. 

“All right - Affleck, Ali, Bridges, Garfield, Gordon-Levitt, Patel… we’re going to start with the shoot and then move into the panel. We’ll break for twenty in between for touch-ups and a visit to crafty, if you’re hungry. We’re ten away from getting things lit, so please stand by and be ready.” The A.D.’s voice is almost bored as he runs down the checklist and schedule that surely must live on his clipboard - another shoot, another group of actors, another day at work for him. Nothing out of the ordinary. No tall, long-limbed, wild-haired delights for him.

Andrew is fairly certain that if Dev could actually hear his inner thoughts, he’d have him committed. Or at the very least recommended for evaluation.

“And the dancing monkeys return to the circus,” Dev says quietly, winking at Andrew as they head towards the set. 

It all goes well, Andrew thinks. The group of guys is all pretty friendly, and it’s always interesting to talk to others who are going through the exact same crazy experience that you are. He really likes talking to Joseph, getting his insight on both the creative process and the best sandwich shop in Burbank - two very important topics in Andrew’s mind. He never quite forgets the cameras are there, given how often they’re asked to stop chatting so that their positioning can be adjusted or the crew can change lenses. But it feels a little less performative and rote than the rest of the whirlwind publicity tour surrounding awards season. A little less like campaigning and a little more like learning. It’s useful, honestly, to talk to these men. To learn from them.

To find other distractions from the handsomeness that is Dev Patel.

The panel itself, however, is not as good at distracting Andrew in spite of the conversations that flow easily even with the presence of a moderator. Because when he arrives at the table and finds his name placard right next to Dev’s, he’s never able to not be acutely aware that the other man is mere inches from him.

That’s the thing, he learns quickly. Dev sits close, and he seems comfortable. And when Andrew talks, Dev _listens_. Fully-focused, unwavering-gazed listening. 

It’s distracting as fuck, he discovers almost right away. It’s hard listening to the moderator and the other men when Dev is right there, seemingly unaware of the effect he’s having on Andrew. Andrew’s sure that he babbles some of his answers. But they’re having fun, if he’s being honest. Every once in a while Dev will shoot him a little look, as if there’s some understanding between them. A slight eyebrow raise when Casey talks, or when someone gets asked a question they’re thankful not to have to answer themselves. It makes it all too easy for Andrew to respond to him - to banter back, to rest his hand on Dev’s shoulder or his arm on the back of his chair. Over the hour that they’re filming the panel, he finds that despite Dev’s distracting presence, he’s able to relax next to him. Dev just has that effect on him. 

As the panel wraps up and everyone stands to shake hands, he feels Dev right next to him the whole time. Not escaping now that they’re no longer obligated to sit next to each other, but sticking right with him all the same. It sort of makes Andrew’s stomach flutter.

“Good chat, yeah?” Andrew says after they’ve said their goodbyes to everyone, turning back to Dev and once again feeling a little flustered at the figure the man cuts as he looks up at him.

“It’s amazing how you can sound both utterly pretentious and incredibly fascinating, all at the same time,” Dev says. The grin on his face makes Andrew beam, even though he’s pretty sure there was some teasing at his own expense somewhere in Dev’s comment. 

He shrugs. “The life of an actor. Sue me!” 

“Honestly, the past two months have felt so strange, with all the press and the campaigning,” Dev says. “It’s been hard not to constantly ask if it’s all been some mistake, and if they should’ve had someone else in my place instead, even though it also all feels really good. But having you around and knowing you’re going through the same things has actually really helped me.” 

Andrew wills every part of himself not to blush. “Really?” 

“It’s just sort of felt like we’re the same, in a lot of ways. Like you get how I’m feeling about all of this. Which, now that I’m saying it out loud, sounds incredibly presumptuous and I’m realizing I should have shut my mouth about thirty seconds ago.” 

“No, I get it,” Andrew says quickly. Because he does. That fish out of water feeling, the uncomfortable sense that these accolades and praise aren’t why he does what he does, but the inability to not look at them and feel proud. Feel validated, even though he knows that it shouldn’t matter. “It sort of feels like I don’t deserve it and shouldn’t want it, but have been waiting all my life for it, all at the same time.”

The smile that unfurls across Dev’s face makes Andrew’s chest feel like it’s lighting up. “I knew you would.” 

Andrew doesn’t think much of their conversation, or the day as a whole, as they say their goodbyes and he heads back towards his waiting publicist, Brianna. She’s incredibly patient, as always, and willing to wait with his mountain of stuff until it’s time to herd him to the next activity. 

“That looked like it went well!” Brianna says as he shrugs into his jacket. She’s got her phone out and is tapping out a message. “I’m just confirming your dinner with Scorsese’s team for tomorrow. We’ve got one more interview to get you to over at the Kimpton - this one’s Vanity Fair - and then I’ll turn you loose for the evening. Promise.” 

“Do I pay you enough for all of this?” Andrew asks. 

“God, no.” She looks up from her phone and flashes him a grin. “Buy me something nice after we survive awards season, and we’ll call it even.” 

“Deal,” he agrees with a laugh.

Brianna waits until they’re just about ready to go to bring up Dev.

“You know, you blush when he’s around,” she says.

“Oh god, do not say that too loudly,” Andrew insists quickly, tossing a glance over his shoulder to make sure Dev and his publicist aren’t within earshot. When he turns back to her, he feels warm. “I don’t blush.” 

She raises her eyebrows pointedly. “You’re doing it again now.” 

“Oh my god!” Andrew lets his head fall back in frustration. “No one should ever hire me again. I’m terrible at hiding my emotions.” 

“Isn’t that the whole point of actors?” Brianna asks. “You guys wear your feelings right on the surface so they’re easily accessible, or some shit like that?” 

He can’t help but breathe out a laugh. “You should hold classes. You’ll be inspiring to many.” 

“I’m just saying.” She nudges him with her elbow. “I saw the way he was looking at you.” 

Andrew sighs. “That doesn’t mean anything. He probably looks at everyone like that.” 

“It didn’t look like that to me,” Brianna says. “From where I was standing, he only had eyes for you.” 

Andrew barely has a minute to process her words when he hears someone call his name behind him.

 _Dev._

“Hey, Andrew!” Dev is jogging towards him, his jacket open and flapping with each step. “Hold on!”

“What’s up, mate?” Andrew says as he turns, trying to ignore the fact that he can feel Brianna’s gaze on his back. 

“I was just thinking,” Dev says, not even the least bit winded from his little jaunt across the studio. How did he make everything look so effortless? “Can I get your number?” 

Andrew’s mouth goes dry. “Uh, yeah. Absolutely.” 

“It’d be great to keep in touch, especially through the rest of this madness.” 

Dev passes over his phone, and Andrew commands his hands not to shake as he taps his number into Dev’s contacts. 

Dev glances at the screen when he takes his phone back, and then flashes Andrew another smile. “Brilliant! See you soon!” 

Dev clasps his hand around Andrew’s arm for a second, and then jogs back across the room towards his waiting publicist while Andrew watches him go, trying very hard not to immediately overthink every little thing that just happened. 

When he turns back around, Brianna’s staring at him pointedly.

“What!” Andrew says, certain that he’s turned as pink as a sunset. 

She shrugs, looking down at her phone again. “I love being proven right.” 

“Oh my god, you’re incorrigible.” Andrew shakes his head. “Let’s go.” 

But he’s quiet for the entire drive to the Kimpton. He stares out the window at the L.A. traffic, his phone feeling like a beating heart in his pocket. The world of possibility that’s just opened up, all through that one small device. 

Is it possible to fall for someone this quickly?

***

Andrew spends three days staring at his phone, waiting for a text or a call from Dev. He checks his ringer, he checks his settings, he even asks a friend to call him to make sure his voicemail actually works. He can’t imagine Dev would ask for his number without any intention of using it. He knows the other man is busy. They’ve both had a ton on their plates as nominees, even though their press schedules haven’t lined up this week. But surely one little text wouldn’t take too long to send in the midst of a busy day. Hell, he’d take a goddamn carrier pigeon if it put an end to the anticipation that was becoming more tortuous by the hour.

When Andrew’s phone pings with a text and Dev’s name finally shows up on his screen, he’s never grabbed his phone so fast.

 _Andrew, mate, it’s Dev!_ The text reads. _How have you been holding up? Have you remained sane or is all this talk about yourself causing you to gnaw at your own fingernails in private like it’s done to me?_

God damn it, he’s charming even in the written word. 

Andrew doesn’t bother to wait to respond, even though he’s sure he likely should for the sake of his dignity. He doesn’t care. He just wants to talk to Dev. 

_Hello there, friend! My fingernails are thankfully all intact, though I may chew the inside of my cheek raw by the time this is all said and done. It’s sick that all of this is the thing we have to complain about. No wonder people hate actors._

Was he witty enough in response? He hadn’t asked a question - would that put Dev off and cause him not to text back? 

Fortunately, he gets another message minutes later. _It’s true. We’re all monsters, honestly. What press cycle have they got you on this week? It wasn’t nearly as fun, not getting to see my junket buddy over the past few days._

He’d missed him! He had, right? That’s what that meant? 

_I’m doing a few lunch meetings for print articles, mostly. You?_

_Chat show circuit,_ Dev writes back. And then, a second text: _:(_

And it’s that sad smiley that lodges itself in Andrew’s mind. Because, in all the time they’ve known each other, he’s never yet seen Dev sad. Even when the attention isn’t on him, Dev is all smiles and positivity whenever he’s around him. So seeing a sad face, even just a simple one like this through text, breaks Andrew’s heart a little. And makes him want to do something rash to fix it.

 _Do you want to meet up?_ Andrew sends the text before he loses his nerve.

The wait for a response is excruciating. How did people do it a hundred years ago, when you had to write a letter and wait for the goddamn mail to get an answer? 

His phone pings again and he scrambles for it so eagerly he almost drops the damn thing on his face. 

_Sorry, can’t. I’m swamped these next few weeks,_ is the response. 

Andrew feels foolish. Brianna’s words have obviously gotten under his skin more than he’s realized. He was being presumptuous, he thinks. Just because they get along at work-related functions doesn’t mean there’s any interest outside of that. Maybe Dev Patel is one of those men who looks at everyone like he’s falling in love with them, and he isn’t so special, after all.

Another ping. A second message.

 _But I’ll see you at the awards at the weekend_ , it reads. _I bet you look even more handsome in a tux._

Well, damn. Andrew rereads the message upwards of a dozen times, unable to stop the goofy grin that’s slipped across his face. It grows wider every time he reads the second sentence.

Sunday, he thinks. He’s already counting down the days.

***

As Andrew’s car pulls up at the Oscars, he’s practically jumping out of his skin.

Not for the award. He couldn’t care less, honestly. It’s baffling enough that he’s invited to these things, let alone to actually have a nomination. He doesn’t care much for the celebrity of it all, and the flashbulbs and reporters' questions and the crushing throng of the red carpet is all just sort of something to _get through_ for him. And he has no delusions of actually winning. His category is stacked and he’s the youngest of the bunch. No, he’ll happily stay in his seat and enjoy a drink and try to calm his nerves anytime someone taps him on the shoulder.

Because each time, he knows he’ll hope it’s Dev. _That’s_ what he’s here for. 

The red carpet is fine, for the most part. It’s not Andrew’s favorite part of the event, but he knows it’s necessary. His parents seem to get a kick out of it, which makes him smile. They star-spot while he does the requisite interviews, and his dad even gets in on one with Extra. The only real notable part of the evening comes from ET, though, when they ask him far too loaded a question for his liking.

“First of all,” the reporter says, “have you chosen who you will kiss tonight?” 

The question takes him by surprise, and for a moment, all Andrew can do is laugh. How does one answer that question? Hell, even if he _didn’t_ have Dev’s warm brown eyes in his mind, what would be the appropriate answer here? 

“It’s whoever’s looking… whoever’s looking the most handsome, I think,” Andrew decides to say. Just keep a smile on your face and play along, he coaches himself. They’re just being silly. They don’t _actually_ want to know that you’re one big grin away from pressing Dev Patel up against a wall and ravaging him silly. 

Or maybe they do. That would certainly get them the views.

“There you go!” the other reporter says. Fortunately this answer seems to go over well, so he breathes a little easier. 

“Yeah, yeah, we’ll find out.”

They move on to talking about his kiss at the Golden Globes with Ryan Reynolds, and that’s a little easier for Andrew to talk about. Though he’s now regretting that stunt a little bit, with the amount he’s had to revisit it in the last month. No interview is ever as original as the interviewer thinks.

But it keeps him distracted. It stops his gaze from wandering, from searching the crowd, picking Dev out from a large group about thirty feet away, speaking to E! and looking so handsome in his white tuxedo jacket that Andrew sort of wants to throw himself into the abyss. 

God help him, he’d better not be blushing right now.

***

They’re finally able to see each other at the second commercial break.

Of course, it’s in the middle of an aisle in the auditorium, they’re surrounded by people, and there’s a camera in their faces. But they make the best of it. 

“I was right,” Dev says when he approaches, waiting until he’s within earshot so they don’t have to yell.

“Hm?” 

Dev’s eyes flit down Andrew’s frame and then up again. Andrew feels his knees go a little weak. “You do get even more handsome when you put on a tux.” 

Andrew is sure he must have the most ridiculous grin on his face right now, and he knows he couldn’t tamp it down if he tried. “You’re certainly one to talk. You could play James Bond in that and you’d sell out every cinema in America.” 

Dev grins. “You feeling all right?” 

“Nervous,” Andrew admits.

“Come on,” Dev says, resting his hands on Andrew’s shoulders. He feels little electric jolts in every place his warm hands touch. “They’d be mad not to give you the award.” 

Andrew leans in just a little. “I’m not nervous about the award.” 

A pause. “Can I see you later? Next break?” 

Andrew can’t help but shiver. “Where?” 

“Bathroom? The one on the third floor is out of the way, no one will be there.” 

“Naughty,” Andrew replies, grinning again. “I like it.” 

“Behave, you,” Dev says with a laugh, tapping Andrew’s chest. “I just want a minute with you without everyone in Hollywood breathing down our necks.” 

“Next break, third floor men’s room. I’ll be there.” 

Dev squeezes his forearm. “See you then.” 

Andrew spends the next portion of the show so antsy he can hardly sit still. His mother whispers to him twice, asking if he’s all right, and he has to brush it off like it’s nothing. _Just nervous for my category, mum, I’m fine._ He isn’t sure exactly when the next commercial break is, but he’s so poised on the edge of his seat that when it arrives, he’s up and heading back toward the lobby before the TV cameras even fully cut.

Somehow, despite his speed, Dev manages to beat him there.

“You know, word has it on the street that you’ve been asked who you’ll be kissing tonight,” Dev says as Andrew enters. He’s leaning back against the bathroom sink with his arms crossed, and he looks so relaxed and casual and delicious that Andrew just sort of wants to devour him. Instead, he flushes and takes a few steps towards him.

“Apparently my performance with Ryan at the Globes made an impact,” he said, shaking his head. “You know how they get, on the red carpet. Any question they can ask to make their interview stand out in little clips online is fair game to them.”

Dev straightens up, pushing off from the sink to look down at Andrew. “I heard that your answer was that you were looking for whoever looks the most handsome.”

There’s suddenly a tension in the air.

“Are you into handsome?” Dev asks. The question is loaded, asking far more than the actual words let on, and Andrew knows that. He can feel that. Dev is somehow much closer to him than before, and his larger frame stands over Andrew just enough to make him feel breathless.

“I’m open to anything, when they understand me,” Andrew says quietly. 

And then Dev’s lips crash down on his own. 

The kiss is more intense than Andrew could have ever imagined. Dev’s hands are on the lapels of his suit, holding them tight and crushing their chests together. Andrew’s hands wind around Dev’s waist to pull him in eagerly, wanting as much contact as he can possibly get. They kiss for what feels like eons, lips and tongue and teeth and god, the way Dev smells. The way he feels both strong and gentle, warm and inviting while still being solid. Andrew’s hands find their way to the sides of Dev’s face, and as the kiss finally slows and breaks, he runs his thumb over the other man’s jawline.

“Holy shit,” Andrew breathes against his lips, and the two both start to laugh. 

“Now that’s anticipation,” Dev agrees, chuckling as he shakes his head. “I’ve wanted to do that for weeks now.” 

“Honestly, I have too.” Andrew can’t believe how good he feels, right here in this moment. If he could bottle and sell every sensation, every scent, every feeling, he’d make a killing. “You’ve made me happy every time we were around each other, since this whole thing started.”

Dev leans in to kiss him again, and Andrew strokes the back of his neck.

“Is it crazy to tell you I’m already crazy about you?” Dev asks quietly.

“Maybe,” Andrew concedes. “But I like crazy.” 

The grin on Dev’s face might just be Andrew’s favorite thing. 

“So what now?” Dev asks. 

“Well, we go out there and probably I introduce you to my parents.” 

“Aren’t you quick!” 

“As my friend,” Andrew adds, nudging their noses together. “For now. Hopefully.” 

“I like the sound of _for now_ ,” Dev agrees. Andrew feels warm, in the best way.

"I hate that awards season is over and I won't be spending my days eager to run into you." 

"Well, I have your number now," Dev says. "I'm planning to put it to good use." 

Andrew raises his eyebrows hopefully.

"Yeah?"

"Oh, hell yeah."

“I’m going to be doing a play this spring, in London,” Andrew tells him, locking their hands together so that he can keep him close. “Will you come?” 

Somehow, he can feel the warmth from Dev’s smile just as well as he can see its brilliance. “Do I get backstage passes?” he asks.

Andrew can’t help but chuckle. “It’s not a concert. But you can come back and make out with me in my dressing room after the show if you’d like.” 

Dev leans in to brush another kiss over Andrew’s lips. “Then I’m in.” 

Andrew isn’t sure when he last felt like sunshine has exploded in his chest, but he’s certainly not complaining. 

“And, you know, there’s a script I’m interested in,” Dev adds. “It’s a drama, with two soldiers falling in love but having to keep it a secret. I’m signing on for one of the soldiers, but I’d need a costar.”

“Oh really.” 

“Mhm. It’s very important. Groundbreaking, even.” 

“We’d have to do lots of research.” 

Dev’s head tips down to press a kiss against Andrew’s neck. “Oh, loads.” 

God, that feels good. “I assure you, my interest is purely professional.” 

He feels Dev’s laughter against his skin. “I’m sure it is.” 

Andrew squeezes Dev’s hand again. “Think anyone noticed we’re missing?”

“Likely. We’ll probably have to come up with some excuse.” 

“Good thing we’re some of the best actors in the country, according to this whole hoopla tonight.” Andrew winks and Dev laughs once more. 

“Come on, you,” Dev says. “Let’s get back out there.” 

The rest of the night is a bit of a blur, for Andrew. Neither of them win. They stay in their respective seats a few rows apart, applauding and taking in the show. But Andrew is barely paying attention. All he can think about is the man a few rows away, with the wild dark hair and the wicked tongue. 

Just before the last award, Andrew feels his phone vibrate with a text and tries to open it as discreetly as possible, keeping his phone low so that the cameras won’t catch it. 

Dev.

_Brunch tomorrow?_

Andrew grins down at his lap and types out a quick reply.

 _It’s a date._

After the whole event is over, everyone begins to filter out of the theater. It’s a huge crowd, loud and celebratory, and it’s easy to get lost. Andrew tries to focus, helping his parents navigate the aisles to get them towards the car that will take them all to a restaurant for dinner and then back to their hotel. He knows that he needs to be with them right now - they came all this way. 

But just before they leave the theater, he catches sight of Dev across the lobby. He’s with his family as well, herding his mother, but as if Dev knows he’s there, he looks up. Their eyes meet, and Dev sends him a wink before heading out into the Los Angeles night.

Brunch tomorrow.

Andrew can hardly wait.

_end._

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Yuletide, aqualined!! I am so excited to get to write Andrew/Dev for you. I'm not kidding when I say that I've had my eye on this pairing for the past several Yuletides, and am thrilled to finally get to write them! Your letter was awesome and I loved having that to go off. I hope you enjoy this story!


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